Sixty-two right-foot shoes, toe to heel, they reached from my bedroom[F] to the stairs.
I was in despair when a small-footed man named Box proposed to me. I looked at his feet and accepted him. (I was sure the shoes would fit.)
As soon as he was asleep I approached his prostrate form (my axe was sharp {I ground it myself} and my mind was set).
Sixty-two soles inspired me.[G] I struck the blow!—Then the HORROR of my deed seized me. The rest is too awful!
Note: I had cut off the wrong foot!
[A] Left leg.
[B] Fool that I was.
[C] For he could get a pair at the same price as a single shoe.
[D] Likkery wore No. 3’s.